A Second Pair of Eyes
by LilyHellsing
Summary: Mike gets a late-night bodyguard job. It transforms into a bit more. BCS. Preview first, more later if feedback is given.
1. Chapter 1

Mike doesn't get enough love in the fandom.

I thought I'd try my hand out at this. Perhaps it'll be a couple chapters, perhaps it'll be a story. In any case, let me hear some feedback.

* * *

His clock said 2:15 in the morning. Mike blinked twice, trying to figure out what had woken him. Had something scratched at the window, a branch? Something nudge the trash cans, an animal? Or worse, had something as dangerous and stupid as a human tried to break in, perhaps?

Buzz, buzz.

No, he was relieved to hear that it had been his phone that woke him. That relief turned into curiosity as he realized it wasn't his phone-phone, but his…work-phone. He turned on his side and picked it up on the fourth buzz. "Yeah?" His normally gruff tone sounded more so like a grizzly bear than ever.

It was the Vet, naturally. "I've got a job for you…tonight." Pause. "Right now, actually."

Mike sat up in bed, trying to shake the last bit of sleep from his mind. "Right now?" He sounded skeptical.

There was no hesitation in the man's voice. "Within the hour. I've got a client who requested a sharp eye. I thought of you." A bit of flattery mixed with the offer.

"How much?" Mike got to the point.

This was where the Vet hesitated. "Three hundred tonight…and five hundred each day afterwards."

Mike felt a bit insulted. Two hundred minimum for who knew how long doing what? Depending on the day, the idea of 'day afterwards' wasn't terribly enticing yet either. Still, clearly the person was in desperate need – and poor finances – to request an immediate…helper. "Doing what?" He shifted so his feet touched the ground.

"Female client needs a bodyguard tonight. Given the time," there was the faint hush of his voice, suggesting that he had checked it, "I'd say no more than six or so hours. Past that…well, she'll explain, if you're interested."

Female. Heh. Mike had a soft spot for helping women in distress. Call it part of old habits and chivalry. "Bodyguard against who?"

"A violent ex." His mind went back to his fair share of domestic calls he had been pulled into, one in particular. His lips thinned. "Well?" The Vet prompted. "This is a time-sensitive request."

Mike stood with a grimace, his muscles protesting. He growled, "What's the address?"

* * *

Should I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

The apartment didn't look too bad and the neighborhood was a bit better. Whatever the reason for her small payment, she at least lived in a decent area, Mike mused as he turned off his car. He scanned the area twice for any movement or odd detail. Besides a couple of empty cars, there was no one out here.

Verifying that his gun was at his waist, he got out and went towards the building. There was neither gate nor a buzz mechanic to the place. He simply walked in. The apartment he was looking for was 416. He decided to take the stairs.

The first thing he noticed overall was that it was quiet. He paused before entering the fourth floor, noting the silence again. It was a little eerie. He found the number and glanced around before knocking four times – the woman had left specific directions with the Vet. So when there was a pause and a shuffle on the other side of the door, he said the password that the Vet had relayed.

"Floofy tulips." It was a purposely obtuse statement that only the man the Vet had sent would know. It was a clever idea. Nevertheless, it sounded utterly ridiculous coming from Mike's lips. He was grateful that only one person had heard him speak it.

The sound of two locks and a chain slipping way broke the silence in the hall. When the door opened, Mike noticed that there was…no one standing at it. He frowned and took a cautious step inside. He looked to the right and saw who he took to be his pitifully paying employee…with a kitchen knife in her right hand. He tensed but made no movement to disarm her. After all, he reasoned, she had to be scared out of her wits and defenseless otherwise – hence why he was here.

She didn't move though. Without even looking at the windows, he knew the blinds were shut tight and the curtains drawn. The only light that entered the room in an awkward angle came from the hallway and even then it didn't do much. The shadows hid the woman pretty well otherwise, save for the knife and the fact that she was probably a head shorter than he.

"So you're the guy." Her voice was quiet, tired, cracked, and strained. He had a good guess at what may have happened earlier this evening to cause it. And, more so, if he had to guess, she had probably spent the last few hours in the dark with a knife.

"I am." His chin tilted up slightly. She nodded after a moment and made to shut and lock the door. When she moved, however, he stepped back. She paused, then realized why.

"Bastard took my gun." She muttered quietly, a hint of shame mingled with agitation. With the door secure, she made her way, widely, to the kitchen. He took note of the sound of her bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. There was the sound of a 'swish', suggesting that she had put her knife away in the block. "Can I get you something to drink?" There was obvious irony in her tone.

Mike glanced around the room as his eyes adjusted, taking in as much as he could about his surroundings. "How about we start with some details first." It wasn't a question.

There was a soft scoffing noise from the kitchen before a few clinks filled the air. She opened another cabinet, similar noise echoing. "What, the Vet didn't even mention my name?"

"He did." Mike nodded once, his gaze in the general darkness of the kitchen. "Nellie." He greeted her belatedly. Water was being poured into something, a click, then some sort of machinery.

"'Nel' will do." Even with a half-wall and near-darkness between them, he could hear a smile in her voice. "And the name of my saving grace?"

"Mike." He started to speak further when a boiling and hissing noise erupted in the air. The strong smell of coffee assaulted his nose. There was another clink, click, and some sort of liquid being poured with a soft gurgle.

Then she stepped out from the kitchen with two cups in hand. From the dim light of electronics – chargers, resting televisions, and so forth – he could tell she had long curly hair and had a cloth wrapped around her upper arm. She stopped before him, her facial features hidden still, and held out a cup. "Coffee, Mike."

He took it and paused, catching the scent of something different but all too familiar to him: whiskey. "You spiked it?" Just how smart was Nel? Did she want a competent, alert bodyguard or a relaxed drunk for company?

A throaty chuckle was heard. "No, your coffee is black. Mine, however, is pure whiskey." What might have been expected – relaxing on the couch or in bed, given that she had a bodyguard now – was not what actually happened. Instead, she started to slowly pace the living room.

Mike observed her briefly before he took a sip of the dark roast coffee. Not bad, he thought. He watched her take a swig, cough with a grimace, and kept going. He let her unwind for the moment which, by proxy, allowed him to take note of the apartment.

A stereo, a TV, and a laptop. Nothing greatly costly or fancy. There were books, many books, that were scattered around. He caught sight of a few notebooks. Overall, there wasn't a real signal to show that she was swimming in money – which explained her pay. But how she knew the Vet was something that didn't add up, especially if tonight was just for three hundred. No, there had to be something he was missing, something neither thought to mention to him…yet.

"You gonna tell me the details of this midnight call?" He would find out why there was such a discrepancy between the appearance and the relationship. For now, he wanted to find out what he should keep an eye out for aside from a 'violent ex'.

Nel paused in mid-stride, glancing over. She then continued to walk, taking another sip as if to allow the words to come to her. "I've an ex-partner." She started slowly. "He was first a business partner, then things got a bit hot and heavy…but in all things, he's an ex now. We had a deal," she hesitated, her footfalls slowing briefly before she kept on, "and he decided to go back on it. So, he came into my place of work when we closed. We fought…I pulled a gun…he took it and…got a couple of punches in before my luck finally turned. Another employee walked in, having forgotten their phone, and…he ran."

Mike took a slow, long sip but didn't really taste anything that time. His attention and mind replayed what she had said, taking in the details. Not just of her words, of course, but her tone, her movements, the way the pitch of her tone increased ever so slightly when she mentioned she had gotten hit. She didn't mention how many, if any, punches she pulled. That wasn't the point currently anyway.

"So he has your gun. Did he have any other weapons on him at the time or any others he may own that he might use?" Practicality first.

She took a long sip and coughed, wincing. "He…had a…knife."

Despite it being three in the morning, Mike knew immediately the cause of the cloth wrapped around her arm. He sighed heavily. "Anything else?"

"Not that I know of." She admitted quietly.

Mike set his half-empty cup down on a table nearby. "Nel," he said firmly, catching her attention enough to make her stop pacing, "this will only work if you tell me every detail." He referred to the knife wound.

She gripped the cup with both hands. After a pause, she nodded slowly. "Fair enough, Mike." She took a sip. Her words, at the least, seemed to be more relaxed as the whiskey kicked in finally. "Ask away."

"What's his name?"

She started to walk slowly once more. "Joseph Hendrall."

"Do you know where he might be now?"

Nel snorted. "If he wasn't stalking the streets when you pulled in then I suppose that means he's stalking my old apartment."

"Why did you pull your gun?" Pause. "And is it traceable?" The serial number, that was.

The woman finished off the last bit of her drink and set her cup carelessly aside on the desk. When she turned to keep pacing, she stumbled a bit. "He wouldn't leave! And no, I bought it from a 'friend'." Well, that was both a blessing and an irritation.

Mike withheld a sigh of annoyance. "Why was he there in the first place?"

Nel turned again and this time stumbled against the wall, creating a dull thud for the neighbor. She didn't bother roaming anymore. "Because he's a cock-sucking jackass."

This was going nowhere fast. Mike's jaw tensed briefly as he cursed himself for allowing her to get so drunk. He hoped she would be one who fell asleep rather than ranted and raved. He didn't like those sorts – himself. Seeing that he wasn't going to get an answer tonight, he was content with the info he had gotten so far. It was enough to keep her safe tonight.

So he switched to other concerns. "Have you cleaned any wounds you received?"

Nel shrugged. "I think." He tried not to growl, but he did at least glare – not that she could see it in the dark. Before he could speak, she added, "Right, well, I'm going to sleep until my alarm at six." She pushed herself up from the wall, her balance shot. "We'll talk further tomorrow." Pause. "In the morning. Soon. At six."

Mike had to be grateful for small miracles.


	3. Chapter 3

Nel's alarm clock went off without any sight or scent of this Joseph Hendrall guy happening beforehand. Though Mike considered this a success, he knew a still-sobering Nellie would find this to be a fairly rude awakening if only because of the time. He remained in the living room, unsure of what to do. If she remembered last night, she'd remember him. If not…well, the knives were in the kitchen. So long as she didn't have a weapon, and it sounded like her only real one was in the hands of the ex, then he would be fine.

Should he call out to alert her that he was still there?

He glanced out the window once more, spotting a hint of the sun rising. He glanced into the apartment as the curtain closed, the ray of light flashing over a photo on the wall. What did she look like? Of course he was aware he hadn't been able to see her last night, but his attention was on other people. Now however…

He gently set the curtain apart and shifted the blinds ever so slightly to allow more light in. He winced, his eyes adjusting once more. He turned and went to the picture on the wall. It…was just a picture of some hiking trail. He rolled his eyes.

A sharper look around revealed that there were no pictures of her – or what he would assume to be her – or of any person at all. There was really nothing personal here, nothing identifying. He frowned. That was uncommon. Actually, he noted as he looked through the apartment with better lighting, that was suspicious.

While he didn't think himself in danger with this woman who had invited him in, put her weapon away, and fell into a drunken slumber – all without poisoning his coffee – he didn't like being kept in the dark. It was then that he paused and glanced towards the bedroom. He hadn't heard much movement since the alarm was cut off. He weighed his options.

"Nel." He called out, testing the waters. While the knives in the kitchen looked to be all in order and she claimed to be without a gun, he knew better than to test the theory. "Wake up. It's past six…I was told my duties as guard ended then." A hint to jog her memory of who he was, less likely to have a weapon lodged in his chest.

There was movement now behind the half-closed door. He kept an eye on it although it was mostly darkness. A curse was heard before a figure passed the door. "Anything happen?" A tired croak of a voice came out, suggesting that he had fully pulled her from sleep.

"Obviously not." Mike's dry voice carried into what he suspected was the closet, hearing the clinking of hangers. "Perhaps since you're more sober now, you can tell me in grand detail what happened."

"Perhaps you can stop by nosy and bite your tongue. It's too early to be talking about this shit." Clearly she wasn't a morning person.

Mike's jaw tensed briefly. He took a deep breath to control his irritation and tried again. "If we're going to discuss an ongoing professional relationship, I'll need more detail…in order to gauge if the price is worth it."

That seemed to catch her attention, a ceasing of hanger-clinking. There was a slow set of footfalls before the door opened. At the doorframe leaned a body, hair wild and curlier than before if even possible. The light from the living room window finally gave him some view of her. Her right arm raised and rested, stretching almost, against the doorframe. Her head tilted to the left, sizing the man up carefully as he did her.

The recollection of the part of the punches in her story came to his mind when he saw her face. She had a black eye and a gruesome bruise blossoming under her chin. Even in the dim light, the black and blue was vivid against her pale skin. The one eye he could see was a murky blue, focused on him. Her hair, he noted, was nearly as dark as ink.

All in all, Mike thought faintly, she was attractive.

"It's a long story not fit for so early." She finally spoke, stepping away from the doorframe. She made to the left to enter the bathroom. The door, however, didn't close. "I'm taking the day off from work, but I need to visit some people. If you'd be interested in earning…a hundred an hour," she reluctantly increased the price, "then you can join me. It'll be an all-day adventure."

He paused, hearing a sharp hiss leave her and suspected – hoped – that she was just changing wrappings. A hundred an hour though was better than the price before. A price that, judging by her surroundings, was difficult to believe she earned and saved up for years.

"How do you know the Vet?" He didn't give his answer just yet.

Nellie let out a frustrated snap of 'Fuck!' followed by a heavy sigh. It was enough to draw Mike's curiosity and pull him to the open door. Inside he saw that he had been right in his assumption. The cloth she had around her right arm last night was coated in dry blood and on the counter. The new cloth she was trying to wrap around it kept falling as she couldn't tie it with one hand.

Her one blue eye flickered in the mirror, catching his gaze. Her jaw set tense briefly before she relented with a sigh. "A little assistance?" They were both rather grand at avoiding each other's questions.

Mike stepped forward and took the cloth she offered. He was about to tie it when he paused, picking at the gauze that rested against what he assumed to be a cut. His assumption was right again. The cut was probably three inches total, not terribly deep, and clearly made from a knife. It was just above her elbow, suggesting that she had tried to hold her arm up in defense.

His natural frown deepened. "Have you cleaned it?" He inquired, knowing the answer.

When he looked up to her eyes – eye – she was giving him a dull stare. "For a bodyguard, you're awfully mouthy." Still, he didn't relent. She rolled her eye and sighed. "Not this morning, no. I've been dealing with a headache from sleep, alcohol, and a nosy old man."

Mike actually scoffed with a grin at this. He found a few cotton balls and a bottle that would suffice for the purpose. Dabbing some of it on there, he pointed out, "For someone offering such low pay, you keep insulting your only 'savior' rather freely." He referred to the sarcastic name she had given him last night.

When he pressed the cotton against the cut, she sucked in air from her clenched teeth. "Sadist." She grumbled, her muscles relaxing only when he tossed the cotton away. As he wrapped her arm in gauze and in cloth, she sighed softly. "Thanks." She mumbled as he finished tying the cloth. She sighed softly and glanced in the mirror, a displeased grimace on her face. "I look horrible."

Mike glanced at the mirror although he could see her blue part of her face easily enough. "You weren't kidding when you said he got a few good punches in." In the mirror on the other side of her face, he could see a hint of pink blossoming – a blush.

"Shut up." She mumbled. It took Mike a second to catch that she was embarrassed, perhaps even ashamed. "He won't get another chance ever again." Mike caught her gaze in the mirror. The blush that he had noticed before took over vividly. "We can freshen up before we get breakfast somewhere. I'll explain mostly everything there." Pause. "You can leave now, I need to pee."

* * *

It was 7:12 by the time the pair got to a restaurant. It was some place called Loyola's that Mike recommended. Given that it was nearly across town, Nel figured it was a safe enough location. It did, however, catch her attention when they sat down and a woman named Fran seemed familiar with her bodyguard.

After ordering black coffee and a classic breakfast plate, Nel raised a brow at the man. With much yanking and pulling of her hair, she managed to hide most of her black eye and sit against a wall to keep it hidden. The bruise on her chin was mostly hidden with makeup.

Mike shrugged slightly. "Good service." He commented.

Once their drinks were before them, he leaned back in his chair, glancing over the place. When Nellie started to slurp her coffee loudly, he sighed in annoyance. He was too tired for this shit. "Spill."

"What, the coffee? It'll burn your crotch if I do." She smirked over her cup as she set it down. "How can you mingle with Ms. Fran if I do that?"

Oh, she was starting to get under his skin. Rolling his eyes, he scoffed. "No, I meant your story." He didn't dignify the latter comment with a response.

Nellie only grinned before drinking more of her coffee. She gingerly let her cheek rest on her hand, her elbow on the table. She started to slowly drag her fingertip over the many packets of sugar and sweet'n'low. Her blue eye, however, remained on Mike despite the nervous tick. It was clear she was tempted to be a smart ass and avoid the question by the way her lips thinned, but she resisted.

"Joseph and I started our own little business of hacking into computers. Small things at first – girlfriend thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, employer thought employee was stealing stuff. Boring. Then Joseph found a client who was willing to pay big…for big work." She glanced away briefly, something Mike took note of. "It was our first and last big client – but not our last bit of work." She paused briefly, perhaps thinking or lost in her memories.

When she spoke once more, her gaze met Mike's. "Sometime between the start and finish of our side business, we let loose on our carnal desires. But of course, shortly after that, things went south." She quickly glossed over the romantic side of their previous relationship. "Client went to jail – unrelated charges. Something about building a bomb." She shrugged. "I figured it was best to step out of that business for a while. Joseph, however, didn't."

She paused as their food was placed before them. A grimace at her face suggested that she wasn't terribly hungry anymore. Still, she took a bite of the toast and leaned back into the chair, watching as Fran re-filled their coffees.

When she left, Nel glanced up at Mike, studying him. She didn't eat anymore, not yet, but instead seemed to be deciding whether or not to continue. It was either that or antagonize the man. Given her options, she sighed and leaned forward. "He blackmailed me, or tried to, by finding some of my own personal…files online. Other clients that I took up on the side of the side business. He was pretty pissed that I had done something without him – egotistical bastard." She shook her head, her hair jostled just enough to show the sliver of her black eye. "I made a deal with him involving bullets and money…and he left. He wasn't supposed to come back, but lo and behold, he's out of money and thought he might drain me again." She picked up her coffee. "Then you came into the picture. Welcome to Chapter Three." She smiled dryly before drinking.

Mike copied her actions as he let the words replay in his head, adding in the fight scene she had described last night. Something still didn't feel right. "And you know the Vet how?" Maybe that was the oddity.

"Hacking." She said in a chipper voice, a grin that didn't quite reach her eye.

No, there was definitely something that didn't sit right with him. Still, he let it go for the moment. Instead, he started to eat. Soon, Nel followed suit. The pair fell into a quiet moment, Mike's gaze occasionally roaming over the café from their angle.

By the time they finished, Nel sat back and drained her coffee in one gulp. "So, ready to mingle with some old contacts of mine?"


	4. Chapter 4

Mike followed Nel's directions for twenty minutes. When they started to get close, she turned around in her seat and started to rifle through the few items he had in his backseat. He raised an eyebrow. "If you're looking for a smoke…"

She scoffed, her seatbelt off and her body half-over the seat. Her hip brushed against the man's shoulder. He tried not to scowl but failed. "Hardly. I need something to cover my face when I walk in – in case Joseph's near." She paused and glanced over her shoulder, well aware of her butt being next to his face now as she searched his car in an awkward position. "You know, since my hair is so definable?"

Mike kept his gaze on the road for cars, hostile ex's, and cops. "I've got a jacket in the trunk I'll pull for you. Now sit down." The last part came out in a growl.

Reluctantly, she did as he instructed. As an added bonus, she put her seatbelt on. Brushing her hair gingerly from her face, glad that the bruise wasn't visible from his side, she sighed. "The visit shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes." She confessed. "Then we can leave, I'll pay you, and you can be on your tired, merry way."

Mike shot her a sideways glance, his brow raised slightly. "And your threat?"

"If all goes well, he'll be dead by dinner." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, hoping to read his reaction.

Mike just nodded. Well, Nel thought, that was disappointing. They drove a few more blocks in silence before she pointed to a building. "That one." It looked as normal as the rest, a way to blend in. He pulled off to the side and looked around. Nel evidently caught the same idea as she didn't move just yet, her one-eyed gaze traveling as well.

When he felt it was safe, he got out of the car and popped the trunk. It took little time for him to grab his jacket before returning to the car. "You don't think it'd look more suspicious to walk in with a coat over your head?" He asked as he handed her the item.

Nel shrugged as she took it. "Honestly it would have been better to have a scarf or something, but this'll work." She paused, frowning suddenly. "Perhaps…you should join me." Her blue eye flickered to the building, then at him. "It's not that I don't trust my contact, but his loyalties only extend to the end of a favor he owes." Joseph might be inside, in other words.

Mike nodded without hesitation. He turned off his car and briefly touched his gun at his side. "Ready?" He asked when she had the coat over her head.

"As ready as E.T. was to jump off a cliff." She mumbled before stepping out. Luckily the trip, unlike E.T., was far shorter. Within thirty seconds, they entered the building. She pulled the coat off and grinned. "Not bad." She mumbled. As she made to hand him his coat back, she grimaced.

One of the buttons had caught a curl. Nel's face warmed considerably and turned a shade of pink. "If you laugh, you won't see a penny." She threatened sharply.

Mike looked over and had to bite back a grin. Instead he grumbled with the same neutral expression, "E.T. never had hair to be a problem." He noticed a trend though. She was mortified at being mortified; she was embarrassed at being embarrassed. More to the point, she hated to be seen as weak or humiliated. It explained her hiding in the shadows last night, her blush at his observation of her black eye, and this.

Nel scoffed softly and her shoulders weren't quite as tense as his fingers worked to undo the tangle. Although it couldn't have lasted any more than thirty seconds, it felt longer. She stood and brushed her hair back, cautious of her side. "Wait here." She started up the staircase.

"And if your ex is waiting for you up there?" Wherever 'there' was, given the several flights of stairs.

She leaned over the rail and studied him for a moment. A smile broke out onto her face. "I'll shout." When Mike's unamused face didn't change, she sighed. "Alright, fine, if I'm not back down in…four minutes, come up to room 528." Without waiting for his response, she darted up the stairs.

Luckily it was three minutes and forty-three seconds before she came down the stairs once more. From the sound of her footsteps, not quite rushed but definitely quick, he suspected she wasn't running away from her friend. There was no stomping either to indicate anger - as Nel was rather apt at expressing her emotions. Perhaps things had gone well.

When he looked up at the staircase, their gaze met. She grinned slowly. Without a word, she nodded to the door and started her way over to it. He followed, wondering if it was such a smart idea to walk out without cover. Well, he thought, he _was_ her cover.

When the pair got into the car without incident, he glanced around once more. It was only when her seatbelt clicked in did he look at her. She was still grinning. It was tempting to inquire, but Mike knew well enough. Instead, he grinned a bit himself and started the car.

When she had given him his money, he had inquired what she might do if her plan failed. That is, would she call him back if Joseph wasn't...taken care of by her friend? Nel had only smiled and wished him a good life. He noticed, however, that her smile made her eye a bit brighter.

Mike took the good wish, the money, and left. That was it, he figured. That was the end of that job.

And he was right...yet...he wasn't. Not quite. While the job was complete, it would not be the last time he saw Nel.

A couple of months passed. He found new jobs, ran into new problems, got a beating that felt like two. His granddaughter and daughter-in-law were safe now, that was the important part. He was worn out and tired, but he felt satisfied in that regard. He had a new obsession in his offtime, sure, but for now, for that night, he wanted to drink a beer, watch some mind-numbing television, and then sleep.

Except when he opened his door and turned on the light, the last thing he expected to see was...Nel standing at the couch, her hip pressed against the chair. She was wearing a grin that looked nervous and awkward, her hands were up in a show of peace. His first thought, of all things, was to notice how well the bruises had faded and how bright her eyes were.

His second thought was for his hand to go for his gun.


	5. Chapter 5

To the guest who reviewed chapter three with the start being "I don't know", my response is simple: then don't read this.

If you don't want to read a "generic cop story" (of which this is not), then don't. I'm not forcing you. In fact, I don't really care. I do, however, agree that it's difficult to introduce new characters into BB/BCS. It won't stop me from trying, but I agree nevertheless. As for my plans in the future, yes do they include Gus at the very least, but again, if you don't care to get through the first few chapters, then don't read it. Just my two cents as well.

Onto the chapter.

* * *

"Whoa, calm down Mike, it's only me, Nel." The woman gave something of a squeak when she saw where his hand was going. Her hands rose higher in the air, away from her wild hair. "Jeez, I know you're old but surely your memory of our one night stand didn't fade away just yet!"

If he had somehow forgotten her, that would have reminded him of who she was immediately. Inappropriate, crossing the line...yeah, that was Nel. His hand slowly lowered, his gaze flickering to the area around him. "One night stand?" He said dully, his guard still high. "Why are you here, Nel?"

"No one else is here." She supplied thoughtfully as his gaze flickered to all the corners and doors in his house. "Just me, myself, and I." Not that he had any firm reason to trust her word; it was obvious in the way his hand hovered. "You can look around and I'll stand here looking pretty." She suggested lightly.

He studied her a moment, debating with himself. If he went to check the house - boy, he sure had a lot of unwanted, unplanned visitors lately - there was a risk that she might try something. But would she really? There was something off about her, he had been skeptical ever since he first knocked on her door. He couldn't put his finger on it even when she had told him her story, but he knew well enough by now to trust his gut.

Something was off and it was made even worse by her sudden appearance here. His jaw tensed, he made a decision. "Why are you here, Nel?" A hint of tiredness crept into his voice. Hadn't he just thrown off some goons? A peaceful night never seemed to be within his grasp.

"Mind if I put my arms down first?" Same Nel, answering a question with a question. It was this type of avoidance that made his suspicions grow.

He took that moment to study her. She wore dark blue jeans, black boots, a brown top, and a black jacket. All in all, she wore clothes that would have helped keep her hidden in the night. His suspicions spiked. While his hand didn't rest on his weapon like before, he did take a step forward. "What are you carrying?" She had to be with some weapon or another.

She made a slight face. His glare was a warning. If she lied...well. "A shiny new gun, of course. It's on my hip like any normal person. Hence the jacket."

They locked eyes. It was a brief staring contest. Finally he decided, once again, to go with his gut. "What else?"

Her lips twitched just as her arms did. "You're fishing." She stated, slowly lowering her arms.

"Keep 'em up." He stated in such a firm tone that she had no choice but to obey. Mike stepped forward suddenly. The action prompted Nel to take a step back - or, rather, try to. Instead she only backed into the couch she had been leaning against, nearly falling onto it. For a split second, there was a look of panic on her face at being, in a sense, cornered. It fell away as soon as it was seen though.

"The sarcasm or my arms?" She tried lamely.

He stopped a foot from her and reached over, taking her gun. She scowled darkly but tried to lighten it. No doubt she was sour at the idea of having her weapon taken from her twice within a few months. Her ego would survive though. He then paused and guessed, "You have one chance to tell me about your other weapon."

She inhaled deeply in the hopes of calming herself. A moment passed in which she debated calling his bluff. Finally, however, she rolled her blue eyes and moved her arm, digging into her bra before tossing a pocket knife at him. "Ass." She grumbled briefly before letting her arms fall.

He kept his composure in the moment and caught it, satisfied. With both items in his possession, he took a step back. The distance was just as much for him as it was for her. "What are you doing here, Nellie?" He repeated. By the way her jaw tensed, he knew the full name was annoying.

"Can't an old client just drop by to say hello?" She let herself sit on the armrest of the couch. At his deadpan stare, she sighed. "I...it's complicated."

"Most things are with you, it seems." He grumbled. "Spill."

They stared at each other for another moment as Nel debated what to say. He already knew to be skeptical of whatever left her mouth this time. "I've got a...proposal for you." She said carefully.

Mike raised a brow. "And it couldn't be told over a phone call? Or earlier than midnight?"

She gave a sheepish grin. "Apparently not. Though speaking of the time," she stood from the couch, "perhaps I should get out of your hair - er, house. Let you sleep, go to bed myself, so on." She didn't start to walk just yet, waiting for his permission first. After all, he did hold two guns currently.

"Tell me about the 'proposal'." He ignored her attempt to leave. "And don't start by getting on one knee." He added, beating her to her next jest.

Instead of making a sour face at it, she grinned a bit. "I believe that's your part, actually." She bit her bottom lip briefly before clearing her throat. "I'm meeting someone in two days. Information exchange."

"Thought you were done with hacking computers."

"I am. Well, mostly done. Like...seventy-eight percent done." She shrugged a bit. "Money is money. In any case...I uh...don't quite trust the guy. Care to be my bodyguard?" Pause. "I'll give you a thousand."

There it was again, that gut feeling that something...something wasn't quite right. He didn't know what it was though. "Who's the guy?" When she didn't answer right away, he added, "Listen, I always do my research before I take a job. Yours was a one-time exception," curse his soft spot for damsels in distress, "but if you want me on this, you give me his name."

"That mean you'll take the job then, if I give you his name?" She raised a brow. "Legally binding contract? Well, 'legally', so to speak." She did air quotation marks around the 'l' word.

He watched her eyes for a moment, her body language next. She was tense but she kept her gaze on him. She wasn't flinching or fidgety. There was something off, but she gave no signs as to what. "Sure."

A smile broke out onto her face. "Good. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll figure out where we're meeting the following day. Now, I'll get out of your...house if you give me my weapons back, please? It's dangerous being a woman alone at night." She held her hands out.

Mike glanced at them before looking back at her. He didn't respond or react, but waited. A full minute passed before she scowled softly, her hands falling. "Glad to see you're still a nosy bodyguard. Honestly, aren't BGs just supposed to do as told?" When he raised a brow, she finally answered his earlier question, "Gus Fring."

Mike nodded. The name didn't sound familiar, but that didn't mean anything. A few calls, some research, he'd find something out. "Tomorrow then." He stated calmly as he offered her the knife back. With it safely in her bra once more, he took out the ammo in the gun before handing them both back. Clearly the whole 'breaking into his house' thing had left a sour taste in his mouth.

Still, Nel took it all with a smile and nodded. "Tomorrow, expect a call." Then as if there had never been any tension, she all but bounced out of the house, spring in her step and all.


	6. Chapter 6

Okay so. I have not seen past Season 3, Episode 1. I won't be able to since I don't have cable. That's alright though. My idea for how Mike and Gus meet in this fan-story was already set before S3 came out. So be aware, it'll be different. I'm going in blind so it's definitely not canon-events ahead.  
That being said, please enjoy this fanfiction.

* * *

The meet would be in the desert - big surprise. It was also understandable, however, that Nel would be nervous. So two days after she had made a house call, he picked her up at her apartment. He insisted. It wasn't something he did normally, but he would feel better if he had some sort of...control of the situation. Not with Fring, no he felt comfortable for that, but of Nellie.

If she had any reluctance or doubts to get into his car, she certainly didn't show it. In fact, as they drove the hour out of town, she wouldn't really shut up. Anyone else might think this a nervous tic, but not him. Her habit was to toy with things, to have her fingers or hands moving. The picture from the corner of his eye was that of stillness - except her mouth. His jaw tensed at this.

It was of the most pointless things too. From music, television shows, and art to food, weather, and colors - of which were two in the desert. More than once he had shot her a glare that had no effect on her talking. Halfway there, he finally growled, "Nel. Be quiet."

She turned her head and raised a brow at him, her smile of amusement wide. "So says the nosy bodyguard!" She rest her elbow on the window ledge. "Why? You don't need that much attention on driving; it's a straight road with nothing but sand on both sides. If something popped up, we'd see it a mile away."

Mike had to keep from responding right away. No, rather, it was still important to pay attention to the road. His own little trick with Salamanca's driver - the makeshift 'gardening hose' - was a testament to it. One, unfortunately, that Nel couldn't know about. So instead he grunted.

For a brief blissful minute, she stayed quiet. She kept her gaze on him, studying him and silent. That was fine with him, a good trade. Then she turned to look ahead and started to tap her foot. He rolled his eyes briefly. Naturally she'd find another way to annoy him.

"How long do you think the exchange will last?" He asked, refusing to give her the satisfaction of caving once more.

She shrugged and rest her head against her hand, her fingers lost within the wild curls. "If there are lots of questions, maybe thirty minutes? The explanation should take only, what, fifteen probably?" She kept tapping her foot against the door. Luckily before he could comment further, he spotted a car up ahead. They took the dirt road and traveled a few more miles to get to it.

Mike was so preoccupied with the bumps and with the area that he almost missed something very important: Nellie was playing with her hair. She was nervous. He glanced over at her before looking straight ahead once more. As he slowed the car to a full stop a couple yards from the other, he said quietly, "It'll go well. Don't worry."

She looked over at him and paused in her hair-toying. Finally she nodded slowly and undid her seatbelt. "Hope you can promise that, for my sake." She mumbled before opening the door. He followed suit.

She walked a couple of feet before him, her flats stepping on bits of rock. Across from them by a several feet was a tired, average looking car. More importantly, the person inside it got out as they started to walk.

It was indeed Gus Fring, Mike recognized him from his picture. During his brief time before the meet, Mike had performed a quick search and discovered that he owned a restaurant chain. Whatever he needed Nel and her computer skills for, he had no idea, but he didn't anticipate this to go south. After all, from what Mike could tell, Gus was alone.

…

At least, he should have been. That was why when Nel kept walking, stopping only to stand next to Gus and to turn to face Mike, that the older man felt that uncertainty in his gut turn to ice. Despite the itch in his fingers to go for his gun, he didn't move. He didn't react. Not yet, at least. The situation was always in control, his control, if he kept his cool. So far, the other two were keeping their cool as well.

Yes, he thought with a scowl, 'they', 'the other two'. It was clear in that moment that he had been set up. At the very least, Nel had the decency to look embarrassed, though he saw no shame or remorse in her gaze. Would he be killed? What for? No, there was more to this story.

Gus, like Mike, wore a neutral expression. He was taking in the situation as well. Finally he spoke in a smooth, crisp voice. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mike. I trust you know who I am?"

Mike's chin raised slightly as he took measure. "I do." He wanted to see what Gus would do first.

The restaurant owner nodded slightly. "I have asked Nel to invite you here today in order to offer a deal."

Mike's eyes flickered to Nel. 'Invite'? He wondered if her apparent boss knew under what lies she had told. Well, even if he did, Mike doubted he cared so long as it got Mike where he stood currently. It did, however, explain all of his bad feelings.

"And what's that?" He said shortly, looking back at the man.

"I have been made aware of your attention to a certain person." The wind carried his voice easily to Mike a few feet away. "Hector Salamanca." It was easy to catch, the strain of steel in his otherwise pleasant voice. There was history.

This information, however, made Mike grit his teeth. And who would have found him out? He didn't look at Nel although it was tempting. He didn't respond though, prompting Gus to continue. "While I share similar views as you in this regard, I must request that you stop."

Mike raised a brow. "You're presenting a tempting deal," sarcasm dripped off his words, "but I feel obligated to ask...what do I get if I do?" The oddity of this all didn't escape him. The restaurant owner had an issue with the cartel...if this wasn't the rabbit's hole…

Gus didn't take offense to his sharp words. Instead, he smiled ever so slightly. "I have also been made aware of your...talents." He paused. "I would like to offer you a steady job of sorts. I have need of someone with experience and a sharp eye to detail." Gus paused again, this time his smile a bit wider. "Someone who will get a job done even if it means taking a blow or two."

Mike's face ached at the mention, a phantom pain at the memory. Yeah...that wasn't the greatest time he had. "Why?" He stated coolly.

"Because if you continue down the route you're going, I'm afraid my alternative offer will not be as...kind." The clouds moved over the sun, giving them a brief moment of shade. "My offer in terms of payment will be more than enough, more than what the Vet can provide as the middleman." Pause. "Think about it. You know where my restaurant is." He gestured his hand slightly, allowing Nel to walk forward once more as he got into his car.

Fifteen minutes. Less than, really. Like she had said, the meeting was short. As she walked towards Mike, however, her otherwise neutral expression cracked into one of concern and uncertainty. It was tempting, oh so very tempting to leave her in the desert...but that wouldn't do for his conscience or the chicken man.

Still, if looks could kill, she would be dead without Mike lifting a finger. She stopped about a foot away, their gazes locked. Gus' car started, but it did not drive off just yet. Nel swallowed thickly and started to tap her fingertips on her jean-covered thigh. It was apparent she wouldn't be the first to speak.

So be it, Mike thought, for he wouldn't either. What he wanted to say wouldn't have quite the effect on her as his silence would. Oh, the next hour would be torture on her and he decided to enjoy every second. He turned and walked back to his car. Nel followed. Only then did Gus drive off.


End file.
